Letters
by nyteangelofdarkness
Summary: Letters from a father to son- Killian may finally get some of the answers he always wished...
1. Chapter 1

"Hurry mom! It's this way!"

The windy day stirred up the waters of the marina. The _Jolly Roger_ rocked in a lulling manner to Killian as he attempted to drown out the sounds coming from the docks. He let himself fall into the motions that had once been to him as natural as breathing. Stepping in time and working in rhythm with the rocking vessel. The ship had of late fallen into more disrepair then Killian would ever care to admit. For over three hundred years she had been the one thing in his life that he could count on and lately he had to put her to the side while dealing with his new family. Something which left a very horrible guilt in him. Nearly two years had passed after the second curse and the witch had been defeated. The small Maine town had finally begun to right itself again. Things were calm for the first time since the pirate captain had stepped foot in its boundaries.

Since their last battle many things had changed. Things which Killian constantly mulled over as he worked on the _Jolly Roger_ for the fourth day in a row. It had started out as a need for upkeep on the poor old girl but had turned into another way to avoid his lovely wife. She wanted his ideas for names for their coming babe. Emma, bless the lass, just wouldn't let it go. She even had the nerve to send her parents after him. Even her own son was sent in undercover to get an answer from him. It wasn't his fault he didn't have an answer yet and they still had another few months or so before they needed a name for their young one.

He dunked the cloth into the wash bucket and scrubbed at the rail once again. The physical release from scrubbing the ship stem to stern barely curbed the wondering thoughts in his mind.

"Excuse me, mister!"

Killian tossed the rag in the bucket and looked over at the young boy who had stepped on his ship. The lad didn't seem to wait for a reply from him before excitedly reaching out to touch the rail, looking up at the mast with a large smile on his face. He seemed to be a several years younger than Henry, maybe seven or eight, but just as excited to be standing on the ship. The man once known as Captain Hook strode towards the boy, pulling down the sleeves on his black sweater and quickly noticed the woman scrambling up the gangplank.

"Evan what did I say?" she gasped out and grabbed for his arm, pulling him off the ship. The woman turned to Killian and sighed. "I'm so sorry, sir. He's just gets so excited when we come down to the docks. He's been eyeing your ship for a while now and this is the first time we've ever seen anyone on it."

"No problem Ms.…"

"Oh, Hawkins. Annette Hawkins." She placed a hand on her son's shoulders and smiled at the brown haired boy. "And this trouble maker is Evan, my eldest."

"A pleasure Ms. Hawkins to be sure. And you, young lad," Killian smiled and kneeled before the boy. "Don't you know it's horribly rude to step upon a man's ship without permission from the Captain?"

He quickly winked at Annette and stifled a laugh as the boy's eyes widened in shock.

"I'm sorry, sir...I mean Captain." He paused and looked up at the mast once again.

"Well since you seem so enthralled by my ship I guess it wouldn't hurt to look about."

The boy's eyes widened again and he scampered off to the bow of the ship. Annette laughed and the two watched as the boy checked out every nook and cranny.

"You have any children?" she asked.

Killian sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck with his right hand, attempting to keep his left out of sight.

"Aye, well, technically. My wife has a fourteen year old son and we have our first on the way."

She smiled wide and watched her own boy bop in and out of sight.

"I had thought you might. Only another parent would understand indulging a child like this. Thank you again, Captain. He's just been so obsessed with ships ever since my mother told him some of the old wives of our family from the old land. This one in particular," her eyes swept over the _Jolly_, "had caught his eye ever since it arrived. It looks quite a bit like the ship in the painting we have…oh what was the name on that ship?" She paused for a moment. "Evan, what was the name of the ship in that picture at grandma Mac's?"

Evan paused from his inspection of the lines and his brow furrowed in concentration. "The _Jewel of the Realm_!" he finally returned.

"That's it," Annette clapped her hands together and smiled, watching her boy as he ran down the deck to the helm. Both mother and son totally unaware of the ghostly colour in Killian's face.

"Anyways, it was a beautiful story. We have these letters and painting that a father left with our family to pass onto his sons. Apparently they were stationed on that ship and some relative of ours was supposed to find the boys later. Never did of course, I'm sure you remember what it was like back there…so disorganized. We've held on to those things for, oh god a few hundred years at least…still have them at my mum's. Became more of a family thing now, a cute story."

Annette paused and looked up at the young Captain. He stood wide eyed, staring at her. His face had turned several shades whiter and his fist had clenched tightly.

"Captain, you ok?"

"Lass, are you sure of the ship's name?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'm sure. It's written down on the sketch. Why?"

He backed away a step or two, leaning a hand…or rather a hooked hand on the rail for support. She gasped quickly before moving to steady him.

"Why, lass? Because this ship once sailed under that name."

Annette drew out a long breathe and ran a hand through her hair. "What is it now?"

The Captain shakily smirked. "She's called the _Jolly Roger_ now."

Eyes flicked quickly to his hook and back again.

"Aye, that _Jolly Roger_."

"And that Captain Hook I'm assuming."

He sighed and leaned against the railing. "Aye, but not for some time now. I've been reformed you see."

Annette wrapped her arms around herself to stave off a quick gust. She stared off to the open ocean before her, then turned to face the darkening eyes of the once famous pirate.

"Well then, Captain, I guess I have a few things that I can drop off here later tonight. We are under a strict oath to deliver the contents to the ship's captain should any member of my family come in contact with him." She dug in her purse and pulled out a card. "Here is my number, in case you need it, Captain."

"Jones."

"Pardon?" she looked past him for a moment to her son who was walking back towards the pair.

"Jones, it's my name. Killian Jones."

Annette smiled and shook his hand as he held it out. "Well Captain Jones I'll see you shortly."

He nodded and said his goodbyes to the lad, watching the pair walk off the gang plank. Now to wait till evening…

* * *

The night had settled hours before Emma slipped onto the _Jolly Roger_ as smoothly as a six month pregnant woman could. She couldn't wait any longer. Dinner had nearly gotten cold before she and Henry finally decided to continue without him. His empty chair creating more noise than the person usually sitting in it. After leaving her son to his own devices for the night (most likely including staying up to late playing games or watching movies) she drove over to the docks, the only place she ever had to look to find him.

A wind whipped her blonde hair about and she quickly took shelter down below, trying to stay as quite as she could. Smoothly and almost effortlessly she knew the amount of steps and the placement of the captain's door.

"Killian?"

She stepped inside nearly missed the man in all black sitting against the wall on the captain's bed, arms crossed and staring of into space. He didn't answer her, didn't move but just stared off into the darkness before him. The only light came from a small candle on his desk.

"Killian?" she spoke again, slightly louder. Stepping forward she moved towards the bed but something in the flicker of the candle light caught her eye. Leaning against the main support beam and on the desk sat a large framed drawing. In the dark it was hard to see the details but in the soft candle light Emma saw the shape of a ship in the frame.

"Killian?" she tried again, laying a hand on one of the legs that hung over the edge. No response.

"Hook!" she slapped at his leg.

He jolted and finally stared at her. Blue eyes wide and wild. He looked around, confused and finally settled on her.

"Emma," he breathed out. His voice shaky and raw.

"Hey, hey," she whispered calmly. Reaching out, she took his head in her hands, smoothly and soothingly rubbed her thumb over his jaw line. He reached up with his hand and wrapped it around her wrist. Gently kisses were placed on the inside of her wrist and the silence spread.

"Killian, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer but rather guided her gently onto the bed with him. She curled up in his warmth, laying her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around and rested his hand on the child tucked safely within her. No sounds came from them. Only the lapping of the water on the hull of the ship which lulled the pair as time passed.

"I just realised I didn't even know their names."

Emma looked up at him and then followed his gaze to the painting that they were now sitting straight across from. Looking closer it startled her to see that it was the _Jolly_. The sketch was done beautifully, capturing the life that the ship always seemed to have. Rustling paper made her looked back at Killian and then to the parchment he had in his hand.

"What's that?"

He let out a short dry laugh and tossed the old stained paper onto her lap.

"A pathetic apology from a coward."

She raised a brow but took the parchment into her hand. It was old, to be sure. Folded and creased like it had been that way since they day it had been written.

"Who's it from?"

"My father."

Emma let the paper fall from her hand and quickly turned to her husband. He refused to meet her stare but rather attempted to sooth himself by running his hand over their child who in turn responded with a kick of its own. He had never spoken of his family other than quick mentions of Liam but the pain that crossed his face whenever he did stopped her from prying more.

"How did you get this?"

"A woman stopped by today with her son. It turned out long ago a man –my father- left letters and that sketch," he nodded his head towards the drawing on his desk, "with her family to give to the Captain of the _Jewel of the Realm_- the _Jolly Roger_'s original name-, so he could give it to his sons, Liam and myself and they kept it all this time."

"God," she sighed out and grabbed for the paper again. "So this is a three hundred year old letter from your father to you and your brother? And it's been kept by someone else this whole time and just happened to find you again?"

He shrugged and leaned back against the wall. "So it seems."

"Can I?" she held up the paper.

Killian looked down and nodded. "That is just the instructions given to the family."

Carefully, as not to tear the centuries old paper, Emma read the letter written by her father-in-law.

_To whomever these letter pass to_

_These are the recorded instructions and wishes which follow the enclosed letters. In accordance with an agreement between myself and Lord Admiral MacNamara, he and his descendants are tasked to keep hold of these items until the ship known as _Jewel of the Realm_ returns to which the enclosed items are to be then intrusted to the Captain and from him passed onto the men known as Liam and Killian Jones, both of whom were last stationed on the ship._

…_now to proceed without the formalities. Please help me get these letters to my boys. I left in a bad way, the coward's way and these are the only way for me to explain myself. These boys are good and deserve answers. Answers about their past, their family and most importantly, their mother. _

_ To my boys- should they by some miracle of the gods get these- I'm sorry. Please, please take the time to read the ramblings of your old man. I've made many mistakes but please, for your own sake read these. Read about your coward father and your mother. Read it for her, I know neither of you truly knew her. _

_ I love you boys. I'm sorry. _

Emma ran a finger over the hastily written letter. "And the letters?"

He reached into his jacket and pulled out several sealed envelopes, clutching them in his white knuckled grip.

"Are you going to read them?"

"No."

His wife pulled away and stared at him, her green eyes ablaze. All he could do was shake his head again. She couldn't understand, not really. She had her family at the end of the day. She knew that they hadn't want to leave her, knew how had they fought for her and she in turn fought as hard for her own son. She had made peace with her abandonment in the years after Neverland.

He never had, never really needed to. He had been there when his father left, even knew why. He had been there when his brother died. He had technically been there when his mother had passed as well. He had his answers all along, they all had died. They all had left. The mystery that Emma had been left with led to questions and speculations. He never had any. He knew what happened. Black and white, no shades of grey. Of course there were a few small questions to ask…such as what were their names? But nothing answered in there would affect the family he had in the here and now. Killian Jones had buried his past years ago, made tentative peace and drudging it up now would only mar the family he and Emma had created.

Without continuing on the topic Killian pulled Emma in next to him again and resumed feeling for the active child beneath his hand. This is where he wanted to be. In the present with his wife and child.

"Why not?"

"Nothing he could write in there will make any difference. He left us. End of story."

Emma held up the paper and shook it in her hand. "Obviously not, Killian or he wouldn't have gone through so much trouble to get this to you. I mean, these letters have been here waiting for you this who time…"

"And they will be waiting still till I throw them overboard."

He shifted out from underneath her and stepped off the bed. A firm grip on his arm stopped him from storming out the room.

"Swan, let go."

"No, Hook," she spat out the word then withdrew. She held out her hand. "Let me read them at least."

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down. "Why? Why listen to the long lists of apologies from a coward of a man. He was nothing but a useless waste of breath, leaving his sons, his wife to die? That man," Killian threw the offending papers onto the table and began pacing, running his hand threw his hair, "that man sold more pieces of his soul than anyone I have ever met. He owed debts enough for someone of my age, Emma. We spent our lives working off his debts, what in the hell did he do to earn these? He swindled and failed at trying to work people and I am not going to give him the light of day to explain himself."

Emma leaned forward and sat on the edge. Eyes met in a stalemate. "Do it for our future, for our child. Maybe you don't want to remember him but if there is any information on your mother, your brother…don't you want to know about them at least?" She slid off the captain's bed and took his hand. "Killian, if I had had a letter from my parents in my hand, no matter how angry I would still want to know." She placed a hand over their child. "What if this kid wants to know about his other grandparents? Don't you want something to tell him?"

Once again the lapping of the water became the only sound in the cabin. She tightened her grip on his hand and guided him to stand before the large sketch of the _Jolly_.

In the flickering and dying light of the candle she watch the emotions cross his face, she could almost see the list of pros and cons flashing before him. Finally he handed her the age-weathered pages.

"Just let me know if there is anything important."

* * *

Second part to follow shortly...please read and review. Thanks to all of you who have read and reviewed 'Distinguished' and 'Wedding Day' and thank you for all the continued support.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a few days. Then a few weeks. Then a month. It had been left on his pillow in the morning. It had been left next to the mirror in their bedroom at night. It had been left taped to his favourite mug. It had even been placed between her breasts (he had almost fallen for it then) but still he refused to read it.

Emma sighed and rubbed at her stomach- the little one refused to stop somersaulting in her- and stared at the offending piece of paper. It sat perched against a glass on the bar top of the kitchen in their new home with her sitting across from it. Its partner, the sketch was still sitting on his desk on the _Jolly_.

Lately she had been filled with empty time to think about it. Desk work had been bad enough but Killian had chirped into her father's ear enough that the two cornered her and forced her into maternity leave nearly a month ago. Sitting at home and staring at the piece of paper had begun to take up most of her day. She had taken the time to read it during her long empty hours but had to stop after the first few sentences. This wasn't meant for her. This man, his father had written it for Killian and he had to read it himself.

An exceptionally sharp kick came from within her. Dear god Henry had never been this bad. "You had better not end up as stubborn as your father kid or else…"

"Else what, love?"

Emma looked up to the doorway from the living room and saw him leaning up against the frame. A smirk ever place on his face and his blue eyes wide and focused all on her. He took a few long strides towards her and wrapped his arms around her expanded frame. Light kisses were placed on her neck, briefly distracting her from her current mission.

"Else what, love," he whispered again. She felt a spin chill shiver through her at his words. God damn did that man ever quit?

"Else I'll have to kick his and your ass, love," she returned with her best attempt at mimicking his accent. He still laughed whenever she tried. Today was no exception.

Killian drew back and busied himself in the kitchen.

"So lass, what have you been getting up do today?"

"I've become a jolly jumper today apparently."

He raised a brow at her but otherwise didn't answer. He knew better. He knew she hated just sitting at home. But then again, she also knew it was only for a short while longer.

Emma reached forward and grabbed the letter from its place and made her way to lean against the counters. She watched for a moment as he carefully began his obsessive cleaning ritual

"So I have an idea for our night alone," she said.

"Oh? And what would that be?"

She pulled on his currently hook-less arm and turned him towards her. "How about we get some dinner from Granny's," a light kiss, "and then settle into the couch…"

"I'm liking this plan so far, love."

"And read your father's letter together."

Quickly he torn away from her and leaned against the sink, refusing to look at her.

"Emma I told you I have no wish to ever read that thing." His grip on the sink turned his knuckles white.

"And I still say you need to. Killian, "she approached him again and ran a hand over his tight back. "This was written for you. I could only read a little bit and…god he just wants to say he's sorry. Just read it please."

"Love, that man is centuries dead. Dead men tell no tales," he scoffed.

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter with her gaze focused on him.

"Well this one does apparently."

He sighed and looked up at her. "Can you please just drop this Emma? I truly don't want to read anything he says. He left me there to starve. Because of him Liam and I were collected up and shoved into an orphanage. Because of him-"

"You ended up an educated navy lieutenant and captain? How many other children in your position could say that?"

He scowled and looked away again. "Emma, please…"

"Killian. Just please. I swear I won't ask you for anything like this again."

"Emma," he breathed out. "I just don't want to go back there. I've closed the doors to that time, to Hook, to everything back there. I don't want it to be dragged back here."

Blue eyes looked up at her with a pain she could understand. It had been hers too years before but after just hearing her parent's story it helped release some of that pain. It was still there to be sure but at least it let her have something to understand more than the empty 'why's'. This could be the same thing for him. From the small section she had read, Emma knew that this would help fill some of those misunderstandings. But she also knew the pain of revisiting those old wounds.

"You can't ignore what happened in the past, Killian, no matter how much you try. It happened and you've come through on the other side." She paused and pulled his hand over to her stomach. "This little one is a good reason to understand what happened. He'll have some questions about both of our pasts and I don't know about you but I'm done with telling lies. I'll want to tell him or her the truth and to do that we'll both have to go back there."

Silence returned once again but finally he sighed.

"Fine, lass." He took the letter from her hand and held it up. "And you call me stubborn?"

She laughed and slapped him but pushed him towards the couch. They settled in together like they usually did for their movie nights alone. Lights low, the fireplace roaring and settling together on the plush couch, he laying against the arm with her settling in against his chest.

"I'll listen, love. I can't read it on my own." He handed it to her and settled in. Strong arms wrapped around her and he placed his chin on her shoulder.

And slowly she took the fragile letter from its encasement and unfolded it. Inside rested several pieces of folded paper. The first and smallest read _Liam_ on the front. She held it up first and felt him shrug.

"I told you I'd listen."

She drew in a deep breath, understanding what he was asking of her and began reading only to find a sketch instead. It was beautifully done. The child inside was only a boy of eight or nine, sitting on the edge of a dock and smiling. Killian unwound his arm and traced the face on the page.

"Liam," he whispered and traced the lines. "He had always liked going down to that dock in the early morning and watch the ships come and go."

"I can go into town tomorrow and see about getting this framed."

He nodded and placed the page delicately onto the coffee table. She pulled out the next piece, the largest collection of paper. Here she unfolded them and revealed aged writing and the roughly written word of Killian's father.

Slowly she began reading…

_ I want to start by saying I am sorry, I am so sorry. I understand if you hate me and will never forgive me and I deserve it any even more. I am a coward boys, there is no way around it. But here, with this letter I am going to attempt to have you understand me, understand what I did and that what I did I did with your best interests in mind. Why? Because I love you boys and I would do, and have done all that I could for you. Hate me. Yell to the gods that protect you. Burn this letter but please, please Killy, at least read it first for your own sake. Read the ramblings of your old man and try to understand._

_ I'll admit this letter was not mine own idea. This has been one of many in a sad and pathetic tradition in my, in our family. Mine own father wrote his to me and his father to him, explaining and praying for forgiveness without the cycle ending. Each man then ends up a gutter rat of some sorts, ending up with the wrong people and in the wrong place. I know that will be my fate as well, Killy, but I refuse for it to be yours. _

_ Until today I had dreaded the day I would be writing this to you and Liam but a woman I have met set me straight. I will talk on her later on but in the end her message was clear. I give you up, I let you boys hate me something fierce, I let you go through some dark days but in the end you boys would end up with your own personal happy ending. This is what I want for you. I give you up, I give up on our family and I will be out of the way for you two to end the cycle. You, Killy, Killian, will never have to write this desperate plea to your own children. You will never have regrets when it comes to your family. You will have a wife and children that love you and that, my son, is all that I have ever wanted for you._

_ I have so much to write to you about what happened but before I let you know what occurred with this women, this seer. I have to go back to our family's beginning. You ask me so much about her Killy, that it breaks my heart that I cannot tell you this from my own lips, I had always been too hurt to speak of her, too much of a coward to tell you how I caused her death but here is our story, your mother's and I. _

_ I met her when I tried to pickpocket her and her brother. _

_ We had always laughed at it back then, before she passed. She and her brother had been shopping in the market and were just unsuspecting victims of a hungry child of the streets. I was sixteen at the time, she had just turned fifteen, and the shopping day was a present from her elder brother, Killigan. Instead of having me arrested, Killigan (whom your mother called Killy) instead offered me shelter and food. I was surprised to say the least but they took pity on the poor thief I guess. He always said it was good form, a term he would always use as long as I knew him. _

…_You have to understand Killian, when your mother fell for me she fell hard, all the way down the social ladder but she didn't care, I didn't care at the time. What a fool I was. She had been the middle child of a well-known officer turned merchant and noble. She was a lady through and through. Annette MacNamara, the most beautiful woman in all the realms. (She truly was, I have several sketches of her for you attached. I always hated that you had to ask what she looked like, what she sounded like. You never really knew her did you, Killy? For that again, I am so sorry)_

_For a few months afterwards the siblings housed me in their stables, sneaking in food and supplies at night. I never understood why but I never questioned it. Shortly after arriving in their manor I begun working small jobs around the household, either for the young master Killigan MacNamara or for some other servants. They knew that I had unsavory connections and we came to an agreement quickly. It worked for a few years, I lived in the servant's quarters of the MacNamara household, escaping the street life that I had expected for myself and I thought all would be well but things were not to stay the same._

_The lady MacNamara, your grandmother, grew ill –a coughing sickness of some sort- but could be sustained with a special medicine which was hard to obtain. Annette came to me and asked for my help and I agreed. It took a while and I had exhausted most of my resources which left me speaking to those I would have rather steered clear of but for Annette, my Annette I would do anything. I made many promises to many powerful people for that special magic powder, many which would come to take pieces of me later on but at that time I didn't care. I…we were blinded by a love that came over us. In caring for her mother, Annette and I spend many hours together and fell in love._

_We fell hard and were quite blinded by our love. Falling in love with her in hindsight it made me realize many things. One being the only thing holding back my regret of taking such a lady from heaven is that it led me to have the two greatest sons in the world. _

_We attempted to hide our love from the world but Annette's brother Killigan quickly found out. Like earlier in our friendship –for by this time Killigan and I were quite good friends, blood brothers he called us- Killigan spared me a harsh sentence from preforming such an act as having a relationship far beyond my status. He was hopeless romantic at heart and saw our intentions were good. We married in secret shortly after her seventeenth year, Killigan the only witness to the union. _

_While our ceremony had been secret, the marriage did not remain so for long. Less than a year later her father, the Lord MacNamara soon found out and banished his daughter from his home, disowned her and refused to ever look at her once again. And it was all my fault. At this time your mother was already pregnant with Liam and we found ourselves alone. _

_I quickly went to finding a home and we discovered the small hovel that we would come home for the rest of our days. I worked hard but it wasn't enough. Annette soon too had to put in hours as housekeeper for women who were even lesser status than she had been. Oh it broke my heart to see her like that. But she smiled every day, she laughed every day and she always would tell me, tell Liam at that point that she loved us till the end of time. She was always so optimistic, always so bright and shining. _

_As you may know, shortly after our second year of marriage Annette had you. She named you after her brother, said that you looked quite a bit like her side of the family and she was right. That straight brown hair and those blue eyes. Those are your mother's eyes, son. After she passed and I would be the one to care for you it took everything I had not to look away from those tearful blue eyes, her eyes._

_Anyways…shortly after your birth your mother contracted the same illness her mother had years before but this time my connections had run dry. I had offered all I could, took out many favours and owed much to many people. She died before your second birthday, Killian. _

_By this time my past was coming back to haunt me. I had to run often and it was hard with two young children. From here on I'm sure you remember it. The cold nights, the hungry ones. Teaching you how to steal broke my soul, son. I had promised your mother that I would never have to do it. I broke my promise to her to feed you. It's been a few years hasn't it? You are nearly seven now Killy, and Liam nearly nine._

_And this is where our story comes to an end, Killy. This is where you start to hate me. A few nights before, as I walked back to our hovel with your dinner, I walked by an alley where some young men were picking on a woman…_

_-No matter how far any of us fall we can never harm a woman. Killian please if I taught you only one thing I hope that it's how to be the gentleman that you should have grown up to be. I know I could only teach you so much with our life but always act the part of a gentleman, never fight unfairly, never harm a woman, always protect those weaker than you and always uphold your promises. Good Form as your uncle Killigan would have said. Do as I say, not as I do, is all I can. -_

…_to continue, I stopped and scared away the men (not without receiving a few good hits to myself) and turned to the woman. She sat on the ground in nothing more than rags in the cold fall night. I offered her my cloak and my portion of food from the gathering but she didn't speak. It wasn't until stood to leave that she grabbed my hand and dropped her hood._

_Killian, I know what I am about to say sounds like a total crock of shit but I plead for you to believe me and I hope with all my might that this woman hasn't jilted me out of a life with my children but if what she told me is true then this hard moment will be worth it._

_When this woman looked up I saw that she had no eyes. She was a seer. She held up her palm and her eye opened up. It terrified me for sure but she called softly to me to stay. And I did._

_She told me that in thanks for my helping her, saving her that she would tell me of a future, one hard to obtain but would break this curse that follows our family. She took my hand and told me of two fates. _

_She told me of my eldest son and his fate. This is why this letter has been written to you Killy, she knew he would never hear my words. She told me of him achieving greatness and a good name in a short life. She said he would die young but as great as any legend, something that Liam had always wished. The short but great heroic life. _

_And you, my Killy. She said that you would have a long, long, long life. One that came with the highest heights and the lowest lows but would end with breaking the curse. Your life, Killian, would hold True Love. You would end with a love that you would have for years, children and family. A life that I and your mother wanted for you and your brother. She said that my youngest son would not continue on this cowardly letter tradition that you would never have to write this letter to your own because you would be there in his life._

_This, Killian, is why I will be leaving in the morning. I have told you we would be sailing the realms and we will. Just not together. You and Liam will be taking a different path, one that hopefully will take you to these lives. After speaking with the seer I knew what I had to do. I took the day and found Killigan. By this time your grandfather had passed and Killigan had married and taken over the MacNamara household. He had followed in the family tradition and entered under the Royal Navy, the youngest admiral in the kingdom. While Killigan was upset that I had been unable to save his sister, he was pleased to hear about you boys. And with a heavy heart I had agreed to let him take you boys over and guide you into a school which then leads into the service. I know its hard work and could be dangerous but I know that it would mean that you two will be educated and will have the best chance at the future the seer predicted._

_So in the morning you will awake and find me gone. I know that if this letter ever does get to you, that it will be years later. Hopefully you will have finished your schooling and entered the Royal Navy (you've always had the sea in your blood, boy). Hopefully you will have found your true love and living a safe and happy life. And all through this I know that you will hate me with every bone in your body. I won't blame you, I never could. You should hate me, I hate myself for doing this but if it means you even have a slim chance at gaining true love then I take my sentence with pride._

_Killian Jones I love you, my son._

_Your father, Zarek Jones_

They sat together in silence for several minutes. Emma cried for him, she had stared half way through the letter and let it roll out at the end. She turned in his lap as gracefully as she could and held him close. His hand ran through her hair, his own soothing method.

"I never knew their names until now," he finally cracked out.

Emma pulled her head away from his chest. "What?"

He looked at her with watery blue eyes. "My parents. I never knew their names. I only ever heard him referred to as Jones by others."

"Oh, love." She grasped the fabric of his shirt and pulled him into a comforting kiss. She held him tight and put every ounce of care and love and understanding she could into it. He took it all from her. They stayed together, gently touching and silently sharing comfort.

"The other one, lass."

"What?" she whispered and gripped his shirt tighter.

"The other letter. Can you read it? We're here anyways."

Emma shook her head. "Not tonight, Killian."

He sighed and extracted her hands from his shirt. "No Emma, we've opened this can of worms already." He took the tear stained page, both of his father's and his wife's, and placed it on the table with his brother then picked up the other written page. Unfolding it he sucked a deep breath and prepared himself once more.

_Och I am a bloody coward. I know I said I would never be writing you again, Killian but I just had to say this. I saw you boys today, and oh how it made me feel. You and Liam both stood on that ship, the _Jewel of the Realm_ in your royal uniforms. Strapping young lads, I heard several men say as they watched you boys command the others and I had to bite my tongue to say that you were mine. You boys have done me so proud but I have no right to say that I am of any relation to you. You both seem to command that ship with ease. Killian I heard that speech of yours and I knew that that old seer was right. I knew that the man that you have become would be happy. And I know that the Liam I saw, the Captain if I heard right will go on to do wonderful things. I am so blessed to have seen you two on this day. I had heard that your aunt, Killigan's wife did not want to honour an old thief's request and send you two alone and without any financial aid which Killigan had promised. He had told me he would send you to school and she sent you to an orphanage. I had found out recently that he had died in a bar brawl shortly after we spoke. Fate again I guess jilted you boys but I hope that old bitch will make it up to you somehow. Although Killigan had passed years before I have contacted his son, your cousin who is about your own age Killian and he has sworn and oath to send these letters and some sketches I have done over the years to the Captain of the _Jewel_, there are only so many ships and she is bound to pass by again and even if you two are sent to another I know the records kept are well enough that these will eventually make their way to you._

_But gods I am such a coward not to stop you as both of you walked past me. I could nearly touch both of you but I didn't want to risk tainting all that you have accomplished. _

_You two will be going off to make your future on the same day that I will go to end mine. A man whom I owe my last and largest debt to for helping save your grandmother has called in his card and I am off on a mission that I will not return from. This is my last letter, my last goodbye Killian. I hope that the two young men I saw today go on and do the most wonderful things, see the most beautiful of lands that I was not able to see with you. _

_Live and Love, Killian. And remember that your mother and I will always love you._

* * *

Epilogue to follow very very shortly. Thank you to all those who have reviewed, followed and favourite 'Letters' and please feel free to continue reading and reviewing.


	3. Chapter 3

"Congratulations, Hook!" David called, clapping a heavy hand on the other man's shoulder. Killian smiled wide and looked across the small living room to his mother-in-law who stood beside Emma, cooing over the babe in her arms.

Their son.

Zarek David Jones.

He had laughed at Emma's suggestion but as they hadn't been able to come up with anything before his birth Emma had insisted they continue the tradition that Regina had started. Emma's first son was named after his adopted grandfather so her second son, his first would be named after both of theirs.

"Thanks, mate. He really surprised us there, eh?"

David nodded and laughed. Up until Zarek's birth all the sonograms had been unable to fully tell the sex but Whale and others had all predicted a girl. Apparently they were wrong.

Zarek David Jones came a week early but healthy and loud. Very, very loud. He was a plump little babe with a healthy head of dark hair and shiny blue eyes.

It had been a few days since Zarek's birth and when they returned home the pair stepped into a gathering of their friends and family. His poor little son had been passed around like a ball between his older brother, his grandparents, aunt and uncle equivalents abound.

"Ya, he pulled a fast one. But it's just great to see he's doing well. And Emma bounced back quickly too, thankfully."

Killian agreed. Snow had given birth herself to little James nearly two years before and had taken awhile to bounce back to the joyful woman they were all used to. Emma too, had no idea how she would be dealing with actually taking home the small bundle. For both mothers these pregnancies held a vastly different reality than their first.

When Zarek had been delivered it had been the most, well…perfect moment in his life. Everything had gone quite smoothly with no complications just like her delivery of Henry had apparently. But this time…oh lord the look on Emma's face when the midwife made a move to hand Zarek over to her. Pure terror and shock settled in quickly but was lifted as soon as the little boy's weight rested on her.

"Aye, but it helps her to know she has support this time around."

"We'll always be there for her," David reinforced.

Killian snorted. As if he didn't know that by now. They were a damned determined bunch.

The heavy hand of his father-in-law and best friend came again on his shoulder and stayed there. "And you know that we're always going to be there for you too, mate."

His heart tightened at the gesture but he nodded his agreement. These people really were his family now, weren't they? And now- he looked to his son who had been passed over to the wolf girl- now he had something more than words and vows that tied him to them, to her. He glanced at his wife who smiled back with a tired attempt. Aye, they had had a long few days and there was nothing more that he wanted right now was to settle into their bed with Zarek sleeping nearby (for a few short hours at least).

His gaze shifted above his wife to the collection of framed photos that now rested above their fireplace. The small remembrance of what was left of his own family. Shortly after reading his father's letters he had returned home to find that Emma had been quite busy. Hanging quite proudly in the centre above the fireplace was the large sketch of the _Jewel_ – the _Jolly_- the one thing in his life which had always remained tried and true. Surrounding the ship were a few of the sketches his father had left for him. Two of Liam, one as a child and another as the Captain he would become, dressed in full regalia which their father must have seen on the last day.

Two were of his mother. She truly was a beautiful Lady. One must have been Annette as a young woman- although she never truly was anything but- dressed in the full dress of a woman of status back in the Forest, back in the time he knew in his childhood. The other…it was her holding two children. Him as a very young babe with a toddler Liam climbing on her lap. God what it was like to see those sketches, to finally put a face to the lingering voice in his mind, the only thing he had had to remember her by. His father had never been able to talk about her but now he understood why and at least he had left his son this last little gift.

"Where did you get the pictures?" David's voice brought him out of thought.

"My father. He drew them himself."

The other man took a quick drink of his beer and stared at them along with Killian. The two fell back into comfortable silence in a room full of laughter.

"They look wonderful," the Prince finally remarked. "Your brother and mother?"

Killian took a drink himself, a rare luxury now and something he made a point to keep that way. "Aye."

A knock came from the front door and Killian quickly excused himself from the Prince's presence before pushing his way through the crowd to the door.

"Oi Hook I think this place is at capacity!" one of the dwarves called from the hallway.

"Better call the Sherif and make a complaint!" another cried out.

He shook his head but realised he couldn't imagine another life without the heckling.

"Hello?" he answered and opened the door. There on the step stood Annette Hawkins. She took a step back and held out a small bag for him.

"Oh, hi, um, Captain Jones."

"Ms. Hawkins," he returned but still unsure why she stood on his doorstep. After quickly dropping off the packages he had been unable to contact the woman since.

"I came by to drop this off. Um, I work at the hospital and heard your wife had delivered."

"Thank you, lass. Did you want to come in?"

"No, no that's ok. I just wanted to drop that off."

"Well thank you. For everything." And he meant it. If it hadn't been for this small woman stepping onto his ship he would never had been able to let go of the hate he hadn't known was still deep within him. The pain that had been dug up from his own child's coming birth, the fear (one that both he and Emma held) that they would end up failing their child as their parents had (whether by choice or not). And now that he had held his own son in his arms, god he knew he'd do the same thing his father had, has David had for Emma and could in no way condemn either man for the choices they made years before.

"I'm just glad that they finally found their way home. The MacNamara family has been their guardian's for too many years."

"The MacNamara's?" he paused. The letters had never been opened before, his father's seal still intact over the centuries and yet...

"Yeah. My maiden name was MacNamara. It had been passed down on my father's side."

"But you're Hawkins."

She laughed and raised a brow. "Yes? I married. My husband is James Hawkins."

Killian stared at her for a moment before letting out a quick laugh. Oh how the world works things out.

"As in…"

She nodded and shrugged. "He doesn't like to talk about it and we leave it at that."

"Understandable."

They stood in silence for a moment before she took a step back. "Well I better be going. Congratulations, again, Captain…well you and your wife on your son." She turned and walked back towards her car.

"Lass," he called out and chased after her. "You said your son, he likes ships right? How about I take you both the next time I take out my family."

"That would be lovely, Captain." She turned around again and walked away. Killian stood outside until he watched her drive down the quiet street. Warm arms wrapped around him brought him out of his daze.

"Who was that?"

"A cousin of sorts, apparently," he mused.

Emma pulled away and faced him. "What?"

He shook his head and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close and guiding her towards their home, full of their friends and family.

"I'll tell you later."

* * *

Emma rose slowly from the couch and stretched out the kinks that had formed in the short time she must have fallen asleep. As the party had petered out eventually only Snow and David remained with them. Zarek and little James had tuckered out long before and were still being watched over by Henry who quite easily picked up big brother duty when the new additions had come. The night had gone well and she was surprised with how long she had lasted. Nights with Zarek were turning out to be hell, just as Mary Margret had warned. Up at all odd hours and deaf at times it was a much different experience than the last time. But as much as she wanted to complain she couldn't. Her boys had been a great help, Killian and even Henry taking turns comforting the babe who seemed to need attention more often than nourishment. Zarek, she knew, would turn out to be the most spoiled and loved child and she wouldn't want it any other way.

Looking around in the quite house she noticed quickly her husband's tidy work. The mess from the night had been cleared and the home was now spotless. His inability to sleep without a perfectly clean house tested her nerves most night but now…god she wanted to find him and kiss him senseless for it. Now to just find him…

Quickly she realised he was no longer on the main floor and soon slowly made her way upstairs. It took only a moment for her to find him up there.

Emma Jones leaned against the door frame of their room and looked on Killian and Zarek. Standing and slowing rocking on his feet in the still dark room, Killian hummed a soft melody to the sleeping babe. This moment, this picture in her mind Emma thought that she would have never seen but here and now, god she loved every moment of it.

"Hey," he whispered without looked up.

She didn't answer but stepped forward and wrapped her arm around him, the other softly rubbing the dark hair on her son's head. In the moonlit room she saw the blue eyes of Zarek open and close, sleep coming once again as he was lulled by his father's voice. A sigh was let out and Emma leaned her head against Killian's shoulder and just looked on their son, joining in the rocking motion he continued.

Killian slowly trailed the song off as the blue eyes finally closed and the child succumbed to sleep. As much as he hated to admit it, he apparently had a gift of getting children to sleep. First with little James the few nights Dave and Snow had tossed the babe at them, stating that they needed 'practice' before running away for their nights alone and now with his own son in his arms. His own flesh and blood made with the most powerful love from his Emma, his own personal saviour. The song had the power, he swore, not him. It had lulled him to sleep enough times as a child. The same song that his father had sung to him, to his brother on those nights where the bar brawls and drunken domestics kept the young lads from sleeping. It had protected them, weaved a sense of security that eased them at all time. He had forgotten those peaceful moments over the years, warped by hatred for that night where he had lied, had left. The good moments had been skewed, twisted and then forgotten. But those letters, those paintings had brought back the life that he had pushed down through his persona of Hook, brought back the pain and the fear but at the same time, they allowed him to remember the good. Remember and look back on what had happened. With new eyes he was able to look back at what had happened and realise how much good had come from that hurtful night. He realised he understood why his father had done it, realised how much the man had loved his sons and wife. All those conflicting emotions and memories had merged and settled, he felt a peace and a calm which had only started to wash over him when Emma bulled into his life.

Now…he pulled his son close and kissed his soft downy hair. Emma unwound her arm and stood aside as he gentle placed the now sleeping babe in his crib- the hand-made beauty a gift from the dwarves- and once again pulled Emma in close. She sighed against him and squeezed him tightly.

Here and now he had a future. He knew his past and had come to understand it, let the pain and hurt go and with that he was now able to enjoy these moments without the dark taint which had threatened him before. The fear of losing his family the same was that had happened before now no longer threatened him. With his wife and his son…sons, he knew that they would be able to stand up to anything.

God…he stopped himself from outright laughing…he really was sounding like one of them wasn't he?

Emma pulled away and made her way to bed, exhaustion pulling her into the sheets. He followed shortly after one last glance at Zarek. Warmth soon enveloped him as his wife curled around him, settling in and listening to his heart. This. This is where he was meant to be. That seer, she had it right. He had found his True Love, his true place in life. He had had heights and lows but in the end he had found her. From now and for every night he would thank the man he had once cursed for his father had given him his saviour, his love and now his son and his family.

He only hoped he would be able to pass it on.

* * *

Well excuse my deus ex machina in this story but hopefully you liked it. Thanks to those who have reviewed, favorited, followed and read. Sorry for waiting so long but this week just flew by and now that I'm getting into essay time my muse is shrinking by the day. It took a bit to write this out and it didn't end up going where my half-asleep mind had wanted but is done nonetheless. I have a few other ideas floating around for some other 3-shots and am in the process of writing them out but it might be a week or so before they post. So again, please feel free to read and review 'Letters' and check out my other OUTA one shots 'Distinguished' and 'Wedding Day' if you haven't already. Cheers everyone!


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